Pools of Crimson
by ShadowGraffiti
Summary: Not a care at all. Not for me, lying on the ground, cringing with pain, lying in a crimson pool of my own blood. No, never for me. Yet at the same time, I did care. For her. Elegant, smart, wonderful, smiling, beautiful, happy... Yes, always for her.


A/N: In the mood for angst. You will probably all kill me, but I'm in a depressed mood for no reason. It will probably show.  
  


**Pools of Crimson  
by CrystalHorse72  
  
**

I didn't care. Nothing mattered anymore.  
  
Not a care at all. Not for me, lying on the ground, cringing with pain, lying in a crimson pool of my own blood. No, never for me.   
  
Yet at the same time, I did care. For her. Elegant, smart, wonderful, smiling, beautiful, happy... Yes, always for her.  
  
She was the light of my life. My whole life, I had lurked in the shadows. She became the light that allowed me to leave my darkness. I remember what she had said; her exact words still linger upon my ears.   
  
It was when I accused Harry, blinded by jealousy. Or maybe it wasn't jealousy. Maybe it was me, realizing how little I meant... to anyone. My parents loved me as their child while everyone else was loved as so much more. I was nothing to them, while they were everything. There was nothing I could do to get them to notice me any more than they needed to. It was just the same with everyone else... if I recieved top grades, they would still look at Hermione. If I was able to make anyone laugh, they would still look at Fred and George. Bloody hell, I could destroy Voldemort and they would still look at Harry!  
  
She knew what I felt. Somehow, she understood. I never knew how, but she did.   
  
You can change that, Ron, she told me softly.  
  
I wondered, miserable.  
  
Stop standing in the shadow. Come to the light... be noticed for who you are. You mean a lot to a lot of people, she told me.  
  
Like who? I couldn't imagine anyone.  
  
  
  
She spoke to Harry, and she made him understand better than I ever could have. I didn't understand why, but she did it. And from then on, no matter what happened, I always had the comfort that at least she would be there for me.  
  
Yet I no longer have even that comfort. Voldemort stole it from me... that bastard. I am still blinded by tears when I think of that fateful night.   
  
He had taken her parents simply to torture her. They were innocent; I doubt they even knew who Voldemort was, but he killed them just the same. I remember her face, twisted in rage and horror, tears running like rivers down her pale cheeks. I remember holding her close as she screamed, trying to break free. I remember telling her to calm down, and then telling her I would go with her. And I remember those teary eyes, the streaks of emotion halting for mere seconds as she stared up into my eyes. And then, she embraced me.  
  
I wanted to stop her, yet I couldn't, so I went with her. I remember when we found him, smiling horribly at us. He had known. This is what he had wanted to happen. He wanted to shame her before destroying her, forever. She fought just as hard as she could, though. It was for her life... and for her parent's lives. All the while, tears ran down her face in deep sorrow. That whole time, her teeth were gritted in horrible rage. Throughout it all, she fought for who she was... and it wasn't enough.  
  
I remember vaugly hearing footsteps behind me... the Ministry had arrived. It was then, as she dodged one last deadly, green blast, that he finally struck her. Regaining her balance from her dive to the side, he attacked. He knew it was good enough, and he disapparated before the Ministry arrived in that dark cavern.  
  
I barely noticed, though. All I remember was that strange light catching her full on. She had been getting to her feet, still slightly bent over, wand clutched in hand, tears down pale cheeks, teeth barred in hate. Then, suddenly, it had engulfed her. Her expression had faded from her face as it held her in mid-air for mere moments. Her wand fell to the ground with a clatter, the last sound I heard before she came crashing down to the floor.  
  
I heard a voice screaming... calling her name, cursing Voldemort. Only later did I realize it was my own voice. I saw her fall, wincing in pain, blood running from her body in rivers.  
  
I started towards her, but a hand wrapped around my torso. I fought against it, but when her eyes barely opened and met with mine, I froze.  
  
I'm sorry, Ron, it was then her body went limp as all life faded away; the candle that had once burned fiercely inside had gone out, never to be lit again.  
  
She was dead.  
  
it was a long and drawn out howl as I cried the first tears I had ever in my whole life, sobs twisting my face. I couldn't hear anything, only my own voice in echos. I broke free of the arm, but two grabbed my elbows, holding me back. I was pulled from there on my knees, trying to fight it, kicking and screaming, but to no avail. It was then, I screamed one last time, crying to the heavens in desperate attempt to be heard.  
  
  
  
That was why I didn't care now. The light that had once been in my life was gone forever, having died out when she departed. I didn't care as I was bathed in my own blood. I didn't care as green light engulfed me, trapping my soul and twisting my body. I didn't care as life left me.  
  
Some say that when you die, you life flashes before your eyes. It's true... my whole life flashed before my eyes in one simple image, for she was my whole life. I saw her smiling face one last time, forgiving me for anything I had ever done and thanking me for everything I had done.  
  
And as it all faded away in a that deady green light, I let one simple tear run down my face before I closed my eyes.   
  
Forever.  
  
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I'm upset about something. Who knows what it is. And strangely, right as I've finishd this, its 9:11.


End file.
